


Fitzroy Maplecourt: Agent Of Chaos

by janemee



Series: Chaotic Fitzroy AU [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Chaos Curse, Chaotic Fitzroy, Character Study, Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24594694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janemee/pseuds/janemee
Summary: Set in a spin-off universe of TAZG episode 15. Fitzroy learns how to serve Chaos.
Series: Chaotic Fitzroy AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777864
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Fitzroy Maplecourt: Agent Of Chaos

In hindsight, Fitzroy thinks, something should have clued him in sooner.

He knew something was off. The way the others talked about him at Clyde Nite’s Night Knight school had to be part of something he couldn’t recognize. He knew that the cruel smiles or polite stares he got every time he said the words meant something. He was sure that the sympathetic eyes and leading questions were part of a social game that he didn’t have the rules to yet. But still, he talked about his plans for the future at every chance, saving the analysis of other’s reactions for later.

He knew he was going too fast, he was too young, it was too good to be true; but dammit, he was a kid, excited to have something to his own, who could blame him for paying less attention than he should?

Oh, and he was so excited too, everyone who he encountered for weeks after he received the gorgeous embossed envelope addressed to ‘whom it may concern’ heard all about how he planned to be the best knight, to serve Goodcastle, to be of service, to leave his shitty town.

He wanted to frame the letter for the longest time, so the world would know that someone out there, with a calligraphy pen and a wax seal, had meant to speak to him. Goodcastle had seen him, and had given him a way out. Thank god his mother never got around to buying the wood for a frame, thank god he saved himself that embarrassment. 

Now all he feels is sadness, soul crushing, makes-you-weak sadness that lingers and pulls you into your own chest. Everything is too loud, too quiet, too much or too little, and all his mind can do is focus on the one thought over and over. 

_ You deserve this, you should have known. _

“Goodcastle is… fake?” He chokes on the words, they aren’t meant for him, he wishes he never had to say them, they’re unwelcome, they’re unpleasant, too big. Too… crushing.

“I’m sorry, Fitz” Rainier starts, “If you want, I-”

“No. no, it’s fine, um. I’ve gotta go. Can, can you tell Argo…?” 

What would he even say? 

“Nevermind. I’m gonna… I’ll see you.” He darts away too quickly, and he’s not sure where he’s going, but he resolves to tell Argo where he is at some point with his notebook.

He walks quickly, turning down hallway after hallway until he crashes into the great wooden door that led outside. In the sunlight, it becomes more apparent to him that his eyes are tearing up, and he feels his blood slowly boil as he paces ever further across the grounds. His ears are hot, and he can feel sparks spreading across his face, red and flushed.

_ You should have known, you should have known, of course you’re not a knight, who would want you? _

His boots pound faster into the soft ground, his head hurts and the world spins. Pain, sadness, too hot. Too Hot. Goddamn. It's so hot. Everything inside of him feels like a tea kettle boiling over, screaming. The world spins, his mind racing to berate himself.

Gruff words cut through the movement.

“Sir Fancylad? What are you doing all the way out here?” It’s Groundsy, his hair enters Fitzroy’s sight before the man himself, and he can’t stop himself from whirling around, the lighting in his hands growing as he turns.

“I’m not a sir! I don’t know what I am! I’m no one, not a knight, not--” 

The blue light explodes, ripping from his chest like a knife. He couldn’t hold it in if he wanted to. The ground around him shines as if on fire, and the wind whips violently with the force. It’s painful, completely too loud, too bright, too much. His magic scorches the air, and Groundsy is thrown to the ground. He is still hot, and his hands feel stung and swollen. When the magic stops, he’s sobbing, the light slowly lifting from his clothes. He’s burning, he’s heavy, he’s wounded.

_ Oh god, it happened again. How? Of course no one wants you.  _

“Groundsy, I’m sorry-” He starts, but when he sees the man slowly pushing himself up on his elbows, he tries to run. Something about the confrontation at this moment, he can’t take it. It’s stupid, but he’s scared. He makes it all of three steps before he falls, the lightning made his legs like jelly, and he’s doomed to burn out on the floor, having cast away everyone who could help.

_ Useless. Useless. Of course no one wants you. _

On the ground, he sobs, pounding a fist into the scorched grass beneath him. Everything hurts, and he feels a rough hand on his back before everything goes dark.

He awakes in a familiar setting, in the plush high-back chair he knows to fear. His eyes slowly focus and he is grounded by the sweet smell of vanilla. The velvet drapes across the walls seem to shift as he blinks slowly. His hands and head throb for the last time and he relaxes in spite of himself.

“Chaos, please. Not today, I don’t know how much you heard out there but-”

“I heard everything I need to.” Their hands are cold on the back of his neck “You’re always so tense, Agent.”

He hates himself for relaxing into the Entity’s massage. “Yeah, heh, see I thought we talked about that. I’m not your Agent, I can’t be, I don’t know what I can be anymore.”

“Well, that won’t do, Fitzroy, not after I spent all that time training you.”

“You mean knocking me out and making increasingly vague threats towards me and my friends? Is that what training you’ve done?”

Chaos feigned a gasp, removing a hand from the half-elf’s shoulders to clutch at their chest dramatically. “Agent, I am surprised at you! Are you so unaware that you refuse to acknowledge all I’ve done for you?”

“As I said, Tough day. Not your agent. How ‘bout you just enlighten me at this point?”

“Is that what you want? Enlightenment? Power? Well, Agent, allow me to be of service.”

The room, or Fitzroy’s head? Goes white. Blinding, searing hot light stretches the walls and brings everything to a singular point.

He sees.

He sees his mother opening a letter of her own, from a mysterious benefactor.

He sees the hand Chaos has had in his entire life to this point, and they both linger too long on the moment at Clyde Nite’s Night Knight School, when they had their fingers tightly on his shoulders, and suddenly whispered “Go!”

He sees, and the world becomes abundantly clear

_ Of course no one wants you, you were made for something greater. You never had a choice. _

_ Chaos has done all this for you, how much more can they give you? _

He sees, and he awakes from the trance with a smile.

“Alright, then, Chaos. Show me how good it gets.”


End file.
